Dulce et Decorum Est
by Sapphira Rayes
Summary: When Sybil returns from her first season in London, she returns with a sparkle in her eye and all because of a certain Mr Bellasis. Branson is left on the sidelines, jealously, miserably watching as the happy couple secure their engagement. But the war is on its way, and when Sybil's new fiancé is sent to the front line, everything changes.


**Hello everyone! So, I was kind of intrigued by the mysterious Tom Bellasis and thought he deserved a bigger part. I always imagined Branson to have fallen in love with Sybil after the incident at the political rally, so this is set a few months after that when Sybil returns from London. Also, we never really got any jealous Branson so is my take on that :) Hope you all enjoy, and please leave me a review to tell me what you thought!  
**

**Summary: When Sybil returns from her first season in London, she returns with a sparkle in her eye and all because of a certain Mr Bellasis. Branson is left on the sidelines, jealously, miserably watching as the happy couple secure their engagement. But the war is on its way, and it changes everything...  
**

* * *

She was coming home. He repeated it to himself, over and over, as he drove through the smog-filled city. _She was coming home. _

When he left Ireland for Downton, he had never expected to fall in love with an English aristocrat. It was almost laughable to think of his socialist principles as being inherent in him when he pictured LadySybil's fine gowns, fine parents, fine everything. But of course, he never thought of her as_ Lady_ Sybil. To him, she was Sybil the suffragette, the beautiful, kind-hearted girl who attended political rallies and smiled at him in the motorcar mirror.

Immersed in his thoughts, he nearly missed the grand Georgian townhouse that he was supposed to be stopping by. He slammed the break down a little too quickly, earning a toot on the horn from the driver behind him. As soon as the car jolted to a halt, it seemed, the two servants emerged from the house with several suitcases between them.

"Morning," he greeted them cheerfully, closing the car door.

They did not reply, only stared at him for a few seconds and turned away.

Honestly – London folk.

Before long, Lady Grantham and Lady Edith stepped out of the house and wandered towards the car.

"Hello, Branson."

"Your Ladyship," he acknowledged, bowing his head and smiling.

"How are things at Downton?"

"Quiet, milady."

"Not for much longer, I expect," smiled the Countess. "Or perhaps it shall be for another week at least – Mary is staying on in London a little longer."

"Is Lady Mary staying alone?"

"She'll be staying with my sister-in-law, Lady Rosamund. I can't think what they'll get up to together. Good heavens, Edith, where is your sister?"

"Flirting with Tom Bellasis, I imagine," Edith replied drily.

_Tom Bellasis?_

"I'm fond of Tom. He and Sybil do seem to have become rather close."

"You don't say."

Another two figures emerged from the doorway. With an annoying flutter in his heart, he recognised Sybil standing by a tall, slim man with dark hair whose name he could only guess as being "Tom Bellasis". He felt his skin prickle with a strange rise in temperature as he watched Sybil laugh, his collar suddenly becoming too tight as this man bent down to kiss her hand. Something changed. Sybil's smile disappeared and he watched as her expression become one of sincerity, of something that he was sure also appeared in his face when she smiled at him.

"Don't they look well together?" he heard Lady Grantham whisper to her daughter, and a little pain began to tear its way through somewhere inside his chest.

He was thankful when he saw Lord Grantham exit the house. Both Sybil and her father descended the steps to the car, Bellasis still standing outside the doorway.

For Tom, it was an uncomfortable journey back to Yorkshire. As much as he tried to close his ears to the conversation in the back, his character seemed to be a little too masochistic to succeed.

"... such a charming man – he seems very taken with you, Sybil."

"Does he?" Of course, the innocent question was accompanied by a faint blush.

"Don't be so coy, darling. Has he said if he will come and visit us?"

"If you must know, he'll be Yorkshire in a couple of weeks. He says he's going to write to you about it."

"Well, he's welcome whenever he wishes to visit."

He stole a glance in the mirror. Sybil was gazing out of the window, lost in her thoughts, the pink blush still not entirely faded from her cheeks. How could he ever have believed that he had a chance with her! He should have known that this would happen, that she would return from London with a "beau", as people of her class called them. Sybil was no wallflower; she was middlemist, beautiful and rare. Tom Bellasis, and others like him, were inevitable.

"Edith, you mustn't let Mary and Sybil have all the fun, you know" Lord Grantham interjected. "Have you enjoyed yourself in London?"

"I suppose."

"Are you looking forward to seeing Sir Anthony?" His heart lifted slightly when he heard Sybil's familiar, gentle teasing.

"A little. He's very kind."

"I think he likes you very much."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, either that, or he's very fond of salt."

"Please, Sybil," sighed Lady Grantham. "I don't want to be reminded of that terrible occasion."

"Oh no, I think it was more memorable than terrible."

"My dear, amongst our kind of people, memorable and terrible are the same thing."

"You sound like granny."

"Now that is something I am not used to hearing."

Tom smiled at the Yorkshire countryside as Sybil laughed.

It was still light when they arrived at Downton. William was waiting at the entrance to receive the family, Carson (Tom knew) just a little further inside.

Sybil was the last to alight. She smiled at him when her fingers grasped his; for a moment he forgot that Tom Bellasis even existed. But the light was extinguished as quickly as it had been ignited, and he closed the door behind her, staying by the car.

* * *

From time to time, Tom would unexpectedly meet Sybil in the library. She was a haphazard library frequenter, sometimes visiting every couple of days, other times only rarely. On this occasion like so many others, she was standing by the Austen section.

"Have you not read them all yet, milady?"

She smiled at him. "It isn't illegal to read a novel more than once, you know."

"I suppose it isn't," he grinned. "Which one will you choose this time?"

"I can't decide."

"I'm not surprised. They're all pretty similar, aren't they?"

She scowled. "You would think so. I imagine you think I'm just a silly girl who only reads romance?"

"Not at all," Tom countered, taken aback. "Actually, I think Austen's very political."

"So do I," enthused Sybil, her previous coolness all gone. "Her romance is very political. There's a lot about class, you know. I remember you saying that you disliked the gap between the rich and the poor."

She remembered. He smiled. "Which is your favourite?"

"_Persuasion, _I think." She picked out the volume and gazed at it fondly. "Did you like it?"

"I haven't read it," he replied a little sheepishly. "What is it about?"

"Oh, it's wonderful! The heroine is called Anne. She's 27 when the novel begins but she fell in love with a naval officer 8 years before. He proposed to her and she rejects him. Then, of course, they meet again and... well, you'll have to read it to find out what happens."

"Why didn't she accept him the first time if she loved him?"

"Because he wasn't wealthy, so her friend persuaded her to give him up." Of course, _he wasn't wealthy_. Did that not sound familiar?

"So she rejects him just because he doesn't have enough money?"

"It's not as simple as that. Don't ask me any more questions – I'll only spoil it for you."

She turned to leave; he resolved to let her go but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

"I hope you enjoyed yourself in London?"

She looked back. "I did, thank you."

"I heard something about a Mr Bellasis."

A flicker of something passed over her face before her expression became inscrutable. "How people gossip," she said coolly.

He cursed himself. "I'm sorry, milady. I didn't mean to speak out of turn."

"No, I'm sorry. I'm not angry with you."

"Who are you angry with?"

"No one really. I wish..."

"Milady?"

She looked pensive for a moment, but then her expression cleared and she laughed. "Oh Branson, how ridiculous it is that you call me 'milady'!"

He smiled, but her exclamation had made him ache with longing for her. "What should I call you then?" he asked softly.

"Oh, I don't know. Something that doesn't make me feel quite so middle-aged."

"I shall try to think of an alternative."

She laughed. "I should go. Mama will be wondering where I am."

He didn't stop her this time, but her response to his question had not given him any relief. Although, what had she meant about giving her another name? Had she been flirting with him? Suggesting something? Or was she just being kind? With Sybil, it was impossible to tell.

He returned to the bookshelf he had been perusing to find that he had completely forgotten what he had been looking for.

* * *

A week later, the letter Tom hoped would never arrive made its appearance. Tom Bellasis was to visit Downton Abbey.


End file.
